Diversion Drabbles and Diverting Dimensions
by Osmodion
Summary: Short stories, stories that put on the back burner, and random ideas that may be picked up and written again.
1. Chapter 1

Harry tore through the halls of Hogwarts, dodging around sleepy students. He earned a couple of curses, mainly from the Slytherins, and a couple of giggles and cheers, mainly from the Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws glared and the Hufflepuffs just smiled and secretly planned world domination.

Well, that wasn't completely accurate, but who could blame him for having his doubts? Especially since so many of the more ridiculous ones all centered around him.

He ran through a chilly Nearly Headless Nick and narrowly missed hitting a very solid banister. Turning the corner, he rushed into the library and glared at the stupid librarian when she aggressively shushed him.

Stupid lady.

Catching sight of a tousle of brown hair and a flash of red peeking out above a low bookcase, he found a half secluded table and stopped to catch his breath.

He rattled the chain of the necklace.

"Ssshhhhh!" hissed the librarian.

Ron and Hermione raced over and huddled over him. "Harry-" Ron started. "-What did you find?" Hermione finished urgently.

"He's not." Harry said. "Oh Merlin, he's not."

Ron collapsed into a chair.

"Are you sure?" Hermione pressed. "Did you make him say the words? Did it vibrate?"

"W-well," Harry stammered. "Not...exactly."

Hermione stomped her foot. "Harry! Then what do you mean he's _not_?"

"Er...well, I asked him if he was, and he said..." Harry paused, working over the memory. He rubbed the smooth surface of the pendant, frowning. Had the secrecy sensor actually worked?

He felt his stomach drop.

"What did he say?" Ron whispered, pale. Hermione stared at him intently.

"Uh..."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Hermione hissed. "Let's go to McGonagall's office and use her pensive."

"Pensive?" Harry shared confused looks with Ron. "What's a pensive?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to look uncomfortable. "Well...I haven't been exactly truthful with you guys..."

Ron's face turned an angry red. "I hope it hasn't got anything to do with this...this...mess we're in! If you've been hiding something about him...or Ginny..."

Hermione's eyes started to glisten.

Harry turned to Ron, exasperated. "Just listen to what she says! Hermione's never been anything but a good friend to us."

Ron shut up and blushed. Harry shook his head and waited for Hermione to speak up again.

"Um...McGonagall gave me some...magical artefacts to help me with my studies, since I was a muggleborn. I've got a time-turner, and McGonagall lets me use the pensieve in her office to store memories of my lectures." She looked away.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "You've got a time-turner?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, starting to smile. "It's really useful for extra research." She hesitated. "But that's not what's important. We can use the pensieve to watch Harry's memories."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Why not just go back in time? My memories are a little fuzzy, and I might have not noticed something."

"That would be so cool!" Ron grinned excitedly. "I bet my brothers have never gone back in time."

"No." Hermione said firmly. "Mrs. McGonagall gave me a list of rules to follow that you can _never_ break when you're using a time turner. If you break them, then you'll destroy the flow of time. Using the pensieve is much safer, and it remembers stuff that you've forgotten."

"But what about if I didn't notice something important?" Harry asked.

"Well, that's okay. We only need to know if he was, you know." She looked uncomfortable.

"Voldemort." Harry finished, darkly.

Ron looked worried again. "Are you sure he looked like that when he was younger? I mean-" he started quickly, "he's a Slytherin and all, but he doesn't, I don't know, _look_ like...Vol-vol-" He glanced beseechingly at Harry.

"Voldemort. I know. But trust me, last year, he tricked me, too, in the chamber. But it was him. He killed Ginny, and he almost killed me." Harry stared at both of them, deathly sirious. "I think's after me. He thought I was dead, after I fainted when the Basilisk bite me, but he didn't know that Fawkes' tears can heal Basilisk bites, I guess."

Hermione and Ron were frightened, but with grim and resigned determinations.

"C-come on, Harry. Let's go to McGonagall's room."

* * *

"Syllogism."

"Wha-?" Ron was flabbergasted. "Who uses a password like _that_? What is that, anyways?"

Harry watched patiently as the cabinet door opened to reveal some sort of stone pot with a shallow metal basin. "So..." he started. "How does it work?"

"You're supposed to take out a memory using your wand and then put it in the basin." Hermione instructed.

"I...what?"

"You put your wand so that its touching your head, like so..." Seeing Harry's improper positioning, she huffed and gave up. "You know what, just let me do it for you."

Five minutes later, Hermione dropped the silvery glob of memories into the pensieve.

"Gross." Ron whispered. "Looks like snot."

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed.

"Um, so..." Harry eyed the glowing pool of memories. He still hadn't recovered completely from the feeling of having someone take out a memory, ugh. Imagine having _that_ drawn out of an ear. "What do we do now?"

"We put our faces in." Hermione said, as if that was the most natural thing to do.

"What?" Ron said faintly.

"We put our faces in that? How is that supposed to do anything, exactly?" Harry questioned, feeling slightly sick. He had just had _that thing_ extracted and now they were supposed to just plonk themselves facefirst...

"Won't it get, um, in our noses? Or in our mouths?"

"Honestly. Are you seriously going to stop someone who could be a _dark lord_ just because you're afraid of a little water?" Hermione asked crossly.

Ron paled. "But it's _not_ water, Hermione."

"Oh, shut up, Ron. It's just easier to think of it that way."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "Here goes nothing..."

They slammed their faces into the metal.

* * *

Harry watched as he ran up to Tom Riddle. He had been no less shocked the third time he had met Riddle than the second. He kept thinking that he had been hallucinating, but no.

Riddle was sitting on one of the desks in the potions classroom, looking outside to the Forbidden Forest, and what lay beyond. Snape was nowhere to be found.

"Who are you?" Harry snarled.

Without turning around, Riddle simply said, "I am not what you think I am."

"Are you-are you Voldemort?" he asked.

"Quick!" Hermione yelled. "We need to see if the sensor vibrated!"

Hermione's outburst startled him out of his reverie. He was half surprised that the memory Riddle and the memory him hadn't reacted to the yell.

Ron clambered over to memory Harry. "I found it!"

Riddle shot him a calculating look. "And if I say yes?"

Hermione grumbled.

"You won't get out of here alive."

"I would say yes..." Riddle smiled.

Harry clutched his wand tighter, and his heart clambered. He forced his mouth to move, shape words. "Are you telling the truth?"

Riddle smiled, disarmingly. "I am lying."

Harry paused. "Are you lying about something other than the issue? Are you lying about something that you're thinking in your head?"

"Such specific questions, Potter. But, I am talking about my identity as you see it, and not lying about what I'm thinking in my head. In fact, I am thinking about nothing other than my identity. What I have said twenty-three point four seconds ago reflects the truth of my identity. And no, I am not distorting your senses or influencing you in any other way." He paused. "Any other questions?"

"Uh...well, are you sure?" he tried.

"Yes, Harry, I am _sure_ that I am lying. You should probably run back to your little friends now, shouldn't you?"

Harry could feel himself heat up at the condescending tone. If only Riddle didn't have to be so...infuriating!

The mindscape faded out around them.

* * *

"The sensor didn't vibrate. Not once." Hermione whispered, as they stood still, exhausted from their ordeal.

"I guess, he isn't really you-know-who, then." Ron added hopefully.

Harry started to pace. "No, he's not, but he's_ supposed_ to be. He looks exactly the same. I'm sure of it now." He hands shook in frustration. "I don't _get it_. How did he make the sensor not work?"

A lock slide into place, and they all froze in fear.

"Well, well, well," came a sibilant, satisfied voice. "What do we have here? Three little lost sheep. Or little lions, but they're all the same to me."

"How did you find us?" Hermione cried while Ron shouted, "McGonagall and the other teachers will find you!"

"Tsk. tsk. So rude. Uncultured filthy cretins." His dark gaze bore over them and they seemed to shrink within themselves. "Did you really think I would expose myself to the student body or the teachers? Idiotic riffraff." He sniffed in disdain.

"Voldemort." Harry surprised himself with the lack of inflection in his voice.

Riddle dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Harry, our little cockroach. Can't just settle down and die, can you?"

"How did you evade the secrecy sensor?"

"We tested it. It worked." Ron defended.

Riddle looked amused. "I would think that you would have, but perhaps your stupidity knows no bounds. And as for evading it, the reason was simple."

He smirked. "A secrecy sensor cannot sense that which is not a lie or a truth."

"But you are Voldemort! Even if you are the younger version of him, you are Voldemort!" Harry argued.

Hermione looked pensive. "Does it not work because there are two Voldemorts in the world?"

"No!" Riddle said sharply. "Fools. I am Voldemort, and essentially, there is no difference between him and I."

He looked upon them with thinly-veiled disgust. "The statement is outside of the bounds of truth and lie, and outside the bounds of the sensor. It is logically unsound. There is no method to say 'I am lying.' and be correct."

At their uncomprehending looks, he hissed, "Do they teach nothing of value? Simple minded fools, the lot of you!"

He snarled and petrified them. "Pathetic. And _this_ is the Golden Boy and his third-year servants. I wish I could have given you a more painful death. Oh, and Harry?"

His saccharine smile was enough to make Harry choke.

"I hope you have the sense to stay dead this time. _Avada Kedavra_."

* * *

He was lying underneath a bench at the King's Cross Station.

Groggily, he thought he heard faint voices of mourning far away.

It was his duty to follow them and save him, was it not?


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everybody and anybody! This is my first fanfic, whoop whoop, and I have minuscule experience writing. I honestly have no idea how I will switch between humor and horror, but it'll be a fun experience for all of us (hopefully.) The first bit will be very light and then things will start to get screwy. Harry is a little *cough* OOC and there will be some Ginnybashing. Constructive criticism much appreciated. Enjoy!  
Warning: All the wonderful things in the Harry Potter universe belong to J. K. Rowling!

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. Bop. Boop. Blop. Blurp. Sizzle.

Harry's hair caught on fire, again, as he stumbled out of bed in a daze. He combed his fingers trough the burning mess, only to have his fingers scorched. He'd forgotten that his hair was on fire. It was almost like a regular occurrence, now, really.

Ever since Snape had given him that Demonic Alarm Clock of Doom to combat Harry's tendencies to be tardy, Harry was having fewer and fewer problems waking up late. However, he had more and more problems with the academy's nurse, Mrs. Pomfrey, who simply had "no idea how, in Merlin's dragonscale undergarments (insert shrill shriek of frustration)" he had managed to obtain second-degree burns on his upper body every day for the last two months. To which he would always say, with a little huff of indignation, "I'm getting better in dealing with the problem, Mrs. Pomfrey, and promptly visit Snape with ill intentions.

But he really was getting better in dealing with these issues." The first couple of times, he hadn't even woken up until the his whole body was flaming. It was actually kinda cool, minus all the pain and stuff.

Ron and Hermione, his two best buds, complained about how he should be taking better care of his body and how he might get irreversible brain damage from the fire and smoke is a carcinogen and how Snape was an evil git and should die alone, in the Himalayas. He really loved them.

They would be here soon, to pick him up, for today was a special day. He quickly doused (what was left) of his hair, briefly wondered if chronic burning of his scalp could lead to early baldness, grew his hair back, fixed up his face, and downed a pepper up potion. He was going to need it. Finishing up with the rest of his daily hygienic ritual, he put on some decent clothes, grabbed his suitcase and left for the waiting car.

He lugged his luggage into the backseat with him. Knowing Hermione and Ron's family, the car's trunk was filled to the brim with books and other things the Weaseley family deemed "necessities." Cough. Everything. Coughcough.

Hermione gave him a quick eye-over and gave him a passing grade before inquiring about his health and wellbeing and if he had packed everything. He shot her a quizzical look before answering. Hermione had been acting strangely since last Friday. When had Hermione become so...motherly? Maybe it was Riddle bringing out her estrogen. Apparently Riddle seemed to do that to everybody.

They settled into the long airborne ride to the land of the rising dragon. Land of the setting sun and the delectable Peking roast duck. He was rather excited to visit China; Hermione wasted no time launching into a long-winded and elaborate discourse on the culture, history, and language of the ancient lands. After an couple hours or so, they had exhausted all possible outlets of conversation, minus Riddle and this trip, of which neither Ron or himself wanted to converse about anymore, so Hermione tried to do the best job of conversing with herself without sounding awkward.  
Ron was still looking pretty glum about Hermione's newfound fanaticism with Riddle, and Harry had given up trying to distract Ron with random quidditch facts and this new Really Expensive Exclusive Science Group who had books that proved all magickind came from aliens. Sciencetology or something? It practically screamed really-bored-elite-people-who-have-no-more-purpose -for-their-money-but-want-to-try-to-get-a-kick-out -of-it-anyways. This is why we needed a class for morals and anti-decadence that everyone with a salary of over a million was required to take...and Hermione really needed to shut up soon. Ron looked like he was going to blow over.

"-and Mr. Riddle said that in China, sticking your chopsticks into your food was bad manners, and considered 'feeding the dead,' isn't that amazing? He said it could probably be traced to the incense sticks they used at funerals or mayb-"  
"Hermione, shut up!" Ron took his eyes off the road to glare vehemently at Hermione right before they very nearly swerved into a tree, and Harry gently slammed Ron's face into the windshield, just to remind Ron that he was driving. "Just because he knows a whole bunch of useless info doesn't mean he's smart! Not everybody thinks he's as awesome as you do!" Ron vented. Hours of stressed driving was really getting to this guy. And he'd just indirectly insulted Hermione. Maybe stressed driving inhibited common sense as well as anger and the urge for bladder release did? He would have to test that out sometime, but he'd better observe the effects for now.

Hermione was a couple shades redder than Ron's hair, which was saying something. She looked pretty shocked at Ron's outburst, so she probably was oblivious to all the noise she was making.

"Ron," she huffed, "just because you don't understand the value of knowledge doesn't mean you can go around saying it's stupid! And Mr. Riddle is smart! He's absolutely brilliant! He owes his own successful tech company and he's beaten down several huge corporations! He graduated early in blah blah blah blah blah"

Harry had given up listening to her tirade; it was as familiar as the back of his hand. Immediately after Hermione had met Riddle, she had gone and googled and searched and memorized every little detail about him. He kinda wanted to point out that going such lengths to learn about somebody would only scare the person, but he didn't want to meddle between the affairs of a jealous man and an enamoured woman. It was too dangerous, even for him, the Boy-Who-Lived (as he was known amongst his auror peers, but that was a story for later).

Riddle had started his company, Magitech, only four years ago. It blended magic and muggle science and engineering to form incredible things from very powerful new types of equipment, such as magic artillery, permanent transfiguration, and magic spacecraft, to casual everyday things like visualization libraries, long-distance spectro-communication, and never ending lined paper (thank Merlin for replacing parchment.)

He was quickly gaining fame and power in the sociopolitical sphere and held several chairs in the Wizengamut. He was dirty rich and the heir of Slytherin. Most people believe that he would be the next Minister, and many believed him more competent than Fudge, although that wasn't a really high standard. Even Harry himself could do the things Fudge did with ease even though he hated the world of politics for confounding him and itself.

Harry had been surprised that he had even gotten a chance to meet the guy, with Riddle's busy schedule and the high-and-mighty attitude of his entourage.

Riddle had met up with his commander, Rufus Scrimgeour, and requested three aurors for his upcoming research trip to China. Their commander hated Riddle with a passion (which he didn't mind) so Harry presumed he decided to pick three of the most expendable ones (which, given the choices, Harry did hate). Merlin, why did everybody think he was unnecessary? Ok, maybe he did spend most of his time comforting the demetor's captives instead of patrolling, but that didn't mean he was inept! He could shoot a very nice patronus charm and had good reflexes. He knew how to fight with firearms, swords, and fists. He was usually stronger than most, mentally. He supposed the only thing he was missing was being book smart and having connections. Taking advantage of those was the easiest way to getting better treatment.  
Hermione he knew had been picked because she lacked battle experience and connections. Ron had been picked because...well he supposed to complete the trio of friends. That kinda sucked.

Honestly, the only good thing out of this trip was the fact that it was going to be free. He really hoped that nothing too bad would happen, since they were only aurors-in-training. Even if they had been accepted into the Ministry's special training program for their "elite" skills, they still sucked compared to those like Mad-eye. Those legends were insane.

The ceasefire between Ron and Hermione snapped him out of his stupor. Hermione was splotchy and looked like she was going to either cry or kill. Ron looked the same. He noted that stressed driving did provoke the same level of insensitivity as anger and need to urinate from his red-haired friend, or...perhaps it was just Ron. He needed to double check that. And he needed to figure out how to soften Hermione's anger and set up a time for Ron to apologize. Merlin, the things he did for his loved ones.

"Harry, we're here, at the Heavenly Lotus Hotel. Do you know what rooms we have, Harry?" Hermione deliberately turned to him as she said this. Of course Harry didn't know, Ron had the instructions, but Hermione was too stubborn to talk to Ron.

Ron, thinking that Hermione was taking Harry to the dark side, quickly followed up with "Harry, I'll meet you later to tell you the rooms. Let's get checked in without Hermione."

Harry wanted to sigh because his friends were too old to be fighting amongst each other for his (unbiased) favor. Ron had no intention to tell Hermione the room numbers, didn't he. What a pair of stubborn idiots. Quickly thinking up a solution, he dragged his luggage and Ron out of the car and walked a few feet away. In whispers, he gave the usual speech and reprimanded Ron a bit and then Ron broke down and asked him what he should do, and of course Harry had planned this and told him to go back and say a couple things, namely, "I hope you weren't offended, dearest Hermione, but I only said that to send Harry away, so I could talk more with you, gracious lady." After that everything would be settled.

Harry waited until he was sure that Ron was following through with the plan, and then he trudged up the marble steps, fuming a little, to the Gothic cathedral/haunted citadel-styled five-star hotel (in China, really?) and left the two to reconcile. His room was 502 and he was sharing (Again, really? They obviously had enough money for single rooms) with some esteemed economist named Wrako? Mako? Mako Dowfoy? Something like that. Apparently he came from a old, rich, and noble family. He hoped he wouldn't have the stereotypical stuck-up attitude that was supposed to accompany his heritage. Even worse, what if he had the silly white-blonde hair like those aristocrats from Game of Thrones? That would be too much.

He opened the door and was surprised to see that no one was there. Maybe Dowtoy was trying to be fashionably late. Okay. he needed to stop bashing his would-be roommate. They were sharing this room for the whole of summer. He really hoped that his new roommate wasn't as nosy as Hermione because that would be so bothersome, and, not to mention, creepy.

He set his stuff around his bed and flopped into it. Stretching languidly, he starting wondering about what Riddle would be like and what their research would be like. Hermione had met Riddle while Riddle was walking to his car, and from the descriptions she was giving, he was supposed to be an amiable, kind, handsome, brilliant, sexy, beast. Maybe Riddle would look like him? He laughed. You wish, Harry, he reprimanded himself.

Feeling curious, he grabbed his visual library (aka magic computer) and googled Tom Riddle. He remembered that Hermione had slipped something quite disconcerting about Riddle...

"Am I to suppose that you are my roommate?" Someone said scathingly.  
Harry turned around and was met with platinum-blonde hair, a haughty look, a very expensive suit emblazoned with a family crest, and what looked to be two burly...servants carrying five suitcases? What was this? Maybe someone splotched up the pepper up potion he drank earlier. This guy...this guy...

"Can you only stand there and gape? You are not fit to be my roommate. I bet you're a mudblood or a blood traitor, like that filthy female down in 501. Pathetic." He sneered and waved a hand of dismissal to his serv-ah who am I kidding, slaves.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Hermione was in 501. He really wanted to punch this guy, the splitting image of the Lako Dutry in his mind, but his brain was still trying to comprehend the fact that this guy was the epitome of spoiled aristocratic children. Seriously, world, are you trying to **** with me? I don't appreciate the effort.

"If you are the haughty aristocrat you seem, shouldn't you have manners? I suppose I should be the man and take that step first then, since you don't comprehend simple social etiquette. I'm Eimstufid Animdum. Nice to meet you." Harry held out his hand. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a little something told him that he was going to regret this.

"Well then, Eimstufid. I'm the Draco Malfoy, heir of the high and noble Malfoy family. I suppose that you should know quite a bit about social etiquette, since you're so well versed in it, hmm? It's pity that starting a simple introduction is all you think you need to be a man." Harry scoffed to cover up his laughter. Mentally, he was rolling on the floor and clutching his stomach with the effort of laughing. (He said it! He said "I'm stupid!") Harry noted that he was so childish sometimes.  
With effort, he forced his face to mirror Plato's cool look of disdain. "Of course I'm not well versed in it, there's no need to go beyond the basics in something as outdated and superfluous as pureblood social etiquette. And pity," Harry smiled. "I thought that you were going to agree with me on how manners make the man, seeing as that's the only reason you would ever be considered one." Internal Harry was still gasping for breath.

Taco's genial smile that he had been valiantly maintaining twitched under this barrage of insult. He dropped his voice and ominously intoned, "Don't make an enemy of a Malfoy, Eimstufid. And since I'm feeling especially kind today, let me inform you that your value is almost solely based upon the condition of your blood, boy."

The prejudice loaded in that statement would have riled him up pretty well if Paco didn't look like such a prissy girl. He felt bad for boy aristocrats since their bad attitudes might have developed to combat their overall sissiness. Maybe he should give Sako a break? He grinned. Nah.  
"Riddle told us to meet him down in the auditorium at 8. We'd better hurry, Mr. Fako Wowboy."


	3. Chapter 3

Draco hated his roommate. He was going to make up a list of atrocities committed by Eimstufid Animdum and have Riddle get him switched. Even better, throw him out of this expedition altogether. He fumed.  
Trash like Animdum should stay outside. And what type of name was Eimstufid anyways? Animdum seemed like the name of a pureblood house, but he couldn't remember if it actually was.

He was consoled to know that if it actually was a pureblood house, it was definitely one of those obscure and weak ones. Maybe he could force Eimstufid's father into a contract of servitude and torture Eimstufid! That would be the best present, almost as good as when he got Crabbe and Goyle. That was definitely the best moment of his life, so good that it would probably work for an expecto patronum. On that day, he'd finally become like his father, the deputy Minister, and his glorious father had swelled with pride.

They stopped in front of the auditorium's grand doors. The wood was meticulously carved and finely inlaid with gold leaf. Graceful curtain curves of satin framed the top and sides of the entrance. It was quite spectacular, Draco noticed, but second to the Malfoy manor's private auditorium.  
Eimstufid nudged him, and Draco shot him a disgusted look, one of his best ones. He was disappointed to see that it had little effect on Animdum, but it was probably due to his mental retardation. Sometimes, he had to remember that not everyone had been blessed with the Malfoy intellect.

Eimstufid said, "Hey Wowboy, can you introduce me to Riddle, since I'm guessing your family are his sycophants? It'll win you some popularity points, Fako, since you need them!"

Salazar, he really wanted Animdum to eat his wand. Draco almost snarled; instead, he thought about the deal. If he were to introduce Eimstufid, the pros were that Riddle would appreciate how Draco could easily become close with the boy and obtain information. In addition...uh...nevermind, that was it. The cons were that the boy's behavior would affect negatively onto Draco and he wouldn't be able to get rid of Eimstufid as easily, but getting rid of Eimstufid might reflect badly on Draco, too...but the boy was taunting him into not introducing him! Did this mean something? Did he not want Draco to introduce him? Then the logical choice would be to introduce him, but Draco didn't want Eimstufid's idiocy to be on his record...the safest bet would be to not introduce him and keep Eimstufid in his room until further notice. Yes, it would be.

"I'm sorry, boy, but the Malfoy family doesn't like to associate our name with scum like you." He practiced his dirty look again. Salazar, he was getting good! "Don't expect the Malfoy family, your enemy, to endorse you and your kind, Eimstufid Animdum." He turned up his nose and opened the door, eyes widening a little at the sight.

The carpet was blood red, the lights threw warm shadows over the walls, and there were the faint murmurs of secret-sharing and anticipation. Only thirteen seats were occupied. This was going to be a small expedition, huh. Everybody important was there though: Zevi, Cygnus, Alphard, even Abraxas, his brother. Bellatrix. He shivered. Blaise, two redheads, the mudblood girl, a hufflepuff named Cedric something-or-other, a blond girl, and his two minions. Instinctively, his eyes searched for Tom Riddle, and landed on the half-hidden balcony on the right side of the stage. Tom Riddle, his lord, looking as enigmatic and dark as ever, was the center of attention even without being in the center. At Malfoy and Animdum's arrival, all pairs of eyes turned towards them, including his lord's. He was nervous inside at all the attention, but he kept his face impassive and whispered for the other to do the same.

Eimstufid laughed.

Draco's eyes whipped to his lord's, whose red eyes revealed no emotion. He was really nervous now, especially since Animdum was his roommate. Was the boy suicidal or something? Salazar. Animdum was saying something now, he should probably focus.

Eimstufid was saying something about apologizing for being late and breaking the festive mood (there was no festive mood! Stop taunting the Dark Lord!) and then something about letting Malfoy (finally, the little nuisance said it correctly!) introduce him?

Oh...no.

He really was put on the spot now, and he had to make a decision quickly. For some reason, he really didn't want to introduce Eimstufid because if Eimstufid wanted him to do it, he had a feeling that it would be really, really bad and something that he might regret forever, so he needed to come up with something else. Should he resort to refuse with bashing? Not yet. Divert with flattery? He really didn't want to flatter Eimstufid. Maybe he should-

"Draco, we're waiting." The Dark Lord stepped out of the shadows of the alcove. That one voice held all the power of the imperio and he swore that there was veela magic in there too, but whatever. He'll introduce Eimstufid.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like you all to meet Eimstufid Animdum, one of the aurors we have with us today." He waited for Animdum to say "pleased to meet you all" or something appropriate so they could redirect the piercing stares. He was really uncomfortable now. He looked at Eimstufid expectantly.

Eimstufid started to guffaw, and Draco's eyes widened. Animdum was shaking with laughter, bent over a little with the exertion. What the hell was wrong with the boy? Was he like Bellatrix? Did he have a screw loose? A footstep was heard, and he was suddenly, really, really, really scared, especially when the lord started to come their way, smiling. This was really bad. He hadn't even finished his will yet.

He said softly, so softly that Draco could feel goosebumps start to spread across his arms, "please tell us the name of your companion, Draco."

"Eimstufid Animdum, my lord."

/\\\\\\\

"Eimstufid Animdum, my lord."  
Hermione looked on in horror. What had Harry gotten himself into this time? She knew that Harry had always held contempt for aristocrats, especially those who didn't work hard or bullied others with their fortune and family name. Draco looked like a perfect example of those Harry disliked, but she'd never though that he would go as far to humiliate him, in front of Mr. Riddle, no doubt!

She had read that Draco was the brother of Abraxas, one of the few in the highest administrative levels of Magitech. Harry would definitely get punished, maybe even cut out from the expedition...this was terrible! Unless...unless, he had purposefully targeted Malfoy! But why would you do something like go against Mr. Riddle; it was plain ridiculous! But...he had said that he didn't want to waste time working for some suspicious company that had ties in the black market and weird cover-up stories (she really wished she hadn't told him that) and his hero ego is so big that it could probably envelope the Earth, so maybe!

She wanted to go to bed, or talk to Mr. Riddle (sometimes she called him Tom in her head), or go to bed to talk with Mr. Riddle. She blushed a little at that. But she needed to focus and stop this disaster from blowing over. Oh Harry, she loved her friend so much, he was probably also doing this to spite Malfoy because he'd called her a fat ugly mudblood pig who wasn't worth the dirt on his shoes...wait.  
Actually, maybe she'd just sit back and watch. She had to first appreciate Harry's effort, after all.

/\\\\\\\

Ron laughed with Harry. Ah, this was hilarious! The stupid freaky white-haired git was getting just what he deserved for calling Hermione all those names. "I'm stupid and I'm dumb." Priceless. Maybe they would all get sent away and Hermione would stop thinking about Riddle so much. He hadn't even seen Riddle. Who didn't show up to their own meeting? The arrogant git!

/\\\\\\\

Luna was busy watching reruns of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ in her mind's eye. Oh, these fools didn't know what they were missing.

/\\\\\\\

Ginny didn't really get why Harry was calling himself Eimstufid Animdum, but Tom was soo handsome. She needed to take some pictures of herself and Tom and post them on facetome. It was the perfect way to get a whole bunch of likes, and the stories about how she went on TOM RIDDLE'S expedition was going to be THE topic for months! She was so glad that she found that little book that was apparently like the biggest discovery of the century! Here's to a best summer ever!

/\\\\\\\

Cedric Diggory chuckled. Harry was such a little prankster. He hoped that Tom's group wasn't so uptight about little jokes like this. Maybe he should step in?

/\\\\\\\

The inner circle aka heads of departments looked hard at Draco and the boy, some in disdain, some with humor, some with shock, with anger, with madness.  
None of them dared to say anything, until their lord's signal. Bellatrix gave a mad laugh-shriek, and she was entitled, being the lord's consort and all.  
Zevi Prince mentally rapped himself. No, they had all been their lord's lovers at one point. Bellatrix was entitled because she was their lord's only female consort because she was the only female who could put up with the abuse.

He kind of felt bad for the poor kid with the green eyes. They were a nice color; he could use them for three very complex potions. Ah, maybe he could use the boy as an eyeball farm after their lord was done torturing him. He had a full flesh-regenerative potion stock, and those eyes really would be useful.

/\\\\\\\

Tom looked at the young boy, fifteen or sixteen by physical signs, with indifference. He didn't know that the aurors accepted fifteen or sixteen-year-olds, in fact, he was sure that the minimum age was twenty-one. So either this boy had gone through time-travel, he was naturally youthful, he had vampire or another ageless magical creature's blood, or he was lying about his age to the aurors.

Last year, he had first realized the power of creature magic naturally present in the blood could be amplified through dark rituals. He had been presently surprised to find dementor blood in him, and it had proved immensely useful in obtaining information with enhanced interrogation techniques, among other things.

He toyed with the idea of ending the boy's life here and now. The viridian eyes were very nice, and they could be used in potions, but...not important.  
There was a nice bit of power in the boy, no doubt, but it was hardly enough to warrant keeping him. Developing more natural magic this late into life was almost impossible and not worth the risk.

He probed out with a tendril of magic, deciding on inflicting a quick imperio to "go to his dungeons" and then strangling the brat to comatose. He didn't need the aurors awake for protection, simply because they were needed for a...special type for protection. He would have much rather taken muggles, as they were easy to miss, but this trip required guards with bigger than average cores. Ah strangling, what fun. It had been a while.  
Smiling, he let his gaze wander over the stock still Draco, mulling at his punishment. He could accio the idiot's hair. Oh yes, that would pain Draco greatly, and to see the blood red bloom amongst the white hairs as each strand was ripped from the scalp...beautiful.

As quick as a flash, Tom retracted his magic.

He had sensed something strange when he had touched the green-eyed boy's magic. He studied the giggling boy, holding his gaze, who seemed a little tense, but seemingly unaware of anything that had occurred. Tentatively, Tom touched the boy's magic again, to the same result.

It was altogether strange, he decided. At first glance, the boy's magic core was completely incompatible with his own; it felt like citrus and cinnamon in the most potent headache-inducing combination. However, when his own magic called out, the other source surfaced; this one tasted like his own, an perfect amalgam of dark, sensual chamomile and lavender.

Now, this was a puzzle worth contemplating. The boy's natural core was white, so that obvious blemish didn't make any sense. It was strange that they didn't mix; perhaps the boy was keeping it bound? That means the boy would have control over it. Hmm...plausible. Did it keep itself bound? No, because dark magic never did that. Maybe he could coax it away, to his own core? Interesting, he'd have to keep the boy under watch. His disrespect wasn't tolerable, but lessons would have to be drilled in soon. He'd personally see to that.

/\\\\\\\

Harry kept giggling. Now they just had to send him away, with a little reprimand and make his life worse for a couple months, but that was okay. He had never wanted to work anywhere near Magitech, and he wasn't afraid to sacrifice a little happiness, safety, or sleep for that. There were better things to do than join that demented company, and the evidence he found against Tom Riddle and his upper executives this morning were horrendous.

Riddle, the vile rat, had multiple strange events surrounding him as a child, and they got worse after he graduated early. He was twenty-four, but Harry bet the disgusting thing had killed over forty people directly or via his upper executives in his lifetime.

They were all just a bunch of murdering psychos. he had been shocked when the papers simply ghosted over such details, but now, looking at Riddle up close, he could tell that the sicko had probably bribed, imperio'd, or killed the reporters who were against him. His head hurt faintly and he kinda felt nauseous with Riddle so close. Thoughts whooshed in and out of his brain, and he felt the need to leave, now. Was this also a type of magical coercion? Like a faint imperio, maybe? Dang, he'd have to research that sometime, too, but he never really got around to these things.

Poor Fako was trembling like a leaf. He looked around for the others: Hermione, Ron, Diggory-the quidditch star? And...Merlin. Ginny? Why in Merlin's name was Ginny here? He groaned mentally. Ginny was working as a news reporter and probably thought that this was the biggest scoop that she could get. Had Ron told her? He needed to meet up with Ginny and tell her that this place was dangerous-taking part in something possibly illegal this early on would ruin her reputation.

First an evil politician trying to cover up some extreme corruption and then Mr. Stuck-up Malfoy and now this?! He really regretted not pushing the issue with Scrimgeour to send out more experienced aurors when he could've. He hated dealing with dilemmas.

Harry turned his attention back to Riddle. Hermione was right, the guy was handsome, infuriatingly so, like the type of guy that others guys would pay to get rid of in order to further their own chances of sexual success. How many illegitimate children did Riddle have? He narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the other's impeccably neat suit and hair and tie and shoes and face and aughh.  
He probably only did it with guys so that he wouldn't make a mistake and have a baby and become the carcass that the newspaper-vultures tore bits off of...but he had to have made a mistake earlier on right? People weren't born being perfect. Inner Harry smiled. He could take Mr. Perfect down now with some bad rap and then wave a little magic, blame it all on suicide, and save the Earth and the future from the horror that will be Riddle's descendants.

Harry shifted a little under the continuous scrutiny of Riddle's laser eyes. He really hoped that Riddle wasn't a master Legilimens because he was a crap Occlumens and he didn't want Riddle to know that Harry was planning to murder him, even if it was for the greater good of the universe.  
Merlin, the guy must have no morals to do all this and not want to commit suicide, so Harry obviously was just gonna help him a little and make him want to commit suicide. No big deal...wait. Why was he even contemplating murder. It must be the headache screwing with his reasoning or something and urgh, Riddle really needed to learn the definition of "personal space." Were people giving him weird looks? Maybe if he didn't display his discomfort, then people would just pass the closeness of Riddle as them needing a new prescription? This was really awkward and he was just TOO GODDAM CLOSE.

"Your name?"

Harry blinked. Were they going to put this in the newspapers? People were never going to shut up if they new his name...Merlin, he knew he was going to regret this. And shouldn't Riddle know his name already? He signed those stupid papers, but maybe he forgot? Arrogant. There were only fifteen people here, and to forget the name of one of your aurors...he set his jaw, involuntarily. Having people like Riddle and Malfoy skim over his ability just because of blood purism really pissed him off. He wouldn't protect people who dissed him and his friends before they knew them as people. Names didn't say anything.

"Are you deaf, auror? I asked for your name."

"Harry Potter, although I believe one usually introduces oneself before inquiring of another." He answered tersely.

Riddle blinked, as though surprised by Harry's retort. Then, with an unnerving intensity in his eyes, Riddle smiled all shark-like.  
"Ah, Harry, I believe that you already know my name, like the other aurors. A subordinate should know the name of his master, right, auror?"

Harry restrained himself from kneeing Riddle down there. Narcissist! And _master_? The nerve! He really wanted to do a lot of unspeakable things to Riddle, and the throbbing pain in his head was not helping.  
Pushing his troublesome rage aside, he merely stated, coldly, "I apologize, but I was under the impression that I was here to protect everyone to the best of my ability, including you. I wasn't aware that Commander Scrimgeour had conferred his authority over to you. Please correct me if I'm wrong."

He braced himself for a physical confrontation.

He was surprised when Riddle leaned back, slowly, like a stretch. He didn't dare hope that Riddle was afraid of him, but at least he had shown the devil that he was capable of thinking and taking care of himself. Riddle eyed him appraisingly, and his insides twisted a bit while his vision swam a little with the incessant beating of the pain in his pulse.  
After Riddle "apologized," introduced himself, and finally, gave him his space, he let out a breathe that he didn't know he was holding. Dismissed, he quickly went over to the other aurors and Ginny. The fifteen were seated in a fashion that almost suggested two factions. Harry briefly entertained the idea of the Light and Dark factions, like the ones in the old of lore.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione shot him a look that said, WHAT THE FRICK IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WERE YOU THINKING in large caps.  
Ron gave him a thumbs up which earned him a clout upside the head from Hermione.

Ginny looked longingly at Riddle as he made his way onto the stage. Riddle moved like a panther, seamlessly gliding in and out of every step, somehow exuding confidence, danger, and (dare he say it?) sex appeal. On Riddle's damnably pristine face was an impossibly kind, caring smile; one that was supposed to completely belie the bloodlust in his red eyes but somehow fit snugly into Tom Riddle's completely messed up persona.

The lights dimmed, and Riddle began to speak. It was a very moving and nice speech, it really was, despite the fact that Riddle probably meant zero of what he had just so passionately depicted, given that Riddle was an anathema to all babies, puppies, and rainbows. The important and informative parts of the speech could be summarized into a "we're going to be in China and we're gonna probably ILLEGALLY raid some ancient tombs for ancient magical artefacts and we shouldn't be doing this."

Harry really wanted to believe that he wasn't the only one who caught up on the underlying meaning, but since Hermione was just absorbing all the lies Riddle threw into her face, Ginny was too busy taking pictures and being starstruck to care, and Ron just was Ron, he realized that convincing his best buds (minus Ron) of Riddle's evil would be almost fruitless and his energy would be used more wisely if he buried his head in his arms and sobbed.

But whatever, the things he did for his friends.

Riddle went on about roommates and passed out papers with list of who was in what room (the same list Ron had gotten in the mail), a map of the hotel, a list of important spectro-communication numbers (aka magic camera phone numbers), and the itinerary. He perused them as Riddle said something about fees and possible dangers and life insurance.

Rooms List  
Room 500-Tom Riddle (The devil incarnate got his own room while his poor, abused subordinates had to share. Totally fair.)  
Room 501-Bellatrix Black, Hermione Granger  
Room 502-Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter (Riddle must have done this on purpose or something)  
Room 503-Alphard Black, Abraxas Malfoy  
Room 504-Cygnus Le'strange, Zevi Prince  
Room 505-Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle  
Room 506-Cedric Diggory, Ron Weasley  
Room 507-Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley

Some people had it way worse than he had. Poor Hermione, getting paired up the possibly insane girl. How many years in Riddle's company did it take for her mind to deteriorate like that? He tacked "making sure Ron was comforting and checking up on Hermione" onto his mental checklist. It was a pity that Hermione had decided to stay with the expedition crew, despite the dangers posed by some of the more shady characters. Ron had obviously agreed to it too, since he made "tagging along with Hermione like a stalker" and "insulting Riddle" two of his highest aspirations for this year. Inner Harry struggled between wanting to protect them and wanting to do his morally correct obligation.

As a troubled Harry stared off into space, a glowing green snake floated by, throwing a hissy fit about minimum wage and the incompetency of the ssstupid young sssnake internsss.

Harry was brought back to Earth as the green snake latched itself onto Diggory's forearm and curled itself into a curved bracelet made out of jade. Inner Harry giggled at how feminine the accessory was before being interrupted in mid-thought by a young snake slithering his way.

As the glowing snake stopping in front of him and stared, Harry, feeling slightly embarrassed at being enough of an oddity for even snakes to look at him intensely and still recovering from the aftereffects of the Riddle Stare, froze up a little. He failed to notice that all the others were holding out their bare arms for the snakes to wrap around.

With a sigh and a resigned mutter of "ssstupid male biped ssspeciessss," the snake, having no bare arm to latch onto, dove for Harry's neck. Harry reacted a second too late and the Boy-Who-Lived was graced with a brand-new, high-quality jade choker. Several amused glances were sent his way, and Diggory snickered at the femininity of the choker, which would have won first hands down in an "It" item competition for Elle or Vogue.

Karma was a bitch.

/\\\\\\\

Bellatrix Black shrieked and cackled humorously as she watched the green-eyed boy try to tear the choker off his neck. The jade collar made him look like a sullen puppy, and she found strangling puppies strangely endearing. Why, when she was young, she shoved her adorable little Chocolate Labrador, Saminhita, into the chimney while the fire was going and watched her suffocate to death! So cute!

Bella turned her attention to the brunette, Granger. When their eyes met, she gave little mudblood princess a shark-like grin, cackling when the mudblood quickly adverted her eyes. She was going to love her dormmate! She had so many new spells to try out, one of which was a very dark human transfiguration spell. Granger as a puppy would be the best, Bella cooed.

/\\\\\\\

Abraxas tsked to himself. He should have expected this. Leave it to his lord to stir up trouble amongst his followers when he was bored. There was bound to be bloodshed if his second, Zevi and Le'strange were paired up, and he and Black were together.

Abraxas gagged elegantly. Salazar, that idea came out wrong. Black was a horrendously loud, horrendously unkempt, and horrendously idiotic philistine. He was in no way even close to matching a Malfoy, graced with natural elegance and refinery. Black could not hold conversation on topics that extended beyond Quidditch, eating, pranks, women, and violence. He looked at Black in disgust. The idiot was leaning over his chair in such an animalistic fashion…it made him want to hex Black two hundred years into the future. Hopefully, Abraxas would be gone by then. Ideally, the Blacks should just cease to exist.

The only person who could aggravate him more than the Blacks was Le'strange. The creepy man was such a sycophant, always pandering to his lord's needs! As if the man was a baby! And he was aggressive, it was unbecoming and uncouth! He held less brainpower than a sloth, and to top it off, his hair was a disgusting mess! Abraxas had half a mind to just banish Le'strange's hair.

While on the topic of hair, Abraxas had noticed the annoying boy who had humiliated his younger brother in front of fourteen people and the Dark Lord also had disgusting hair. Actually, this was more than just disgusting. It was absolutely grotesque, the abomination! What in Salazar's sweet name did the boy piss off to get him hair like that? Every time he walked past the boy he wanted to faint because his hair was such a nightmare.

/\\\\\\\

Alphard was excited to go on this trip. The Dark Lord had told them there were visiting a sinkhole…the largest sinkhole in the world, in fact. It was located near Xiazhai, a little village abandoned overnight because of muggles spreading superstitions about hearing voices or whatnot. Apparently, children had also wandered into the pit and fallen to their deaths, as if possessed. It was a little less than half a mile deep, but the portkey would take then to a hidden temple his Lord had discovered from "anonymous sources." The portkey was an ingenious piece of work; it was activated by tapping twice on the bracelet and saying "exitus acta probat" when within 10 meters to the sinkhole.

He glanced distastefully at the Weasley girl. He had no idea why his Lord had brought her along, but she was annoying since she was constantly ogling at his Lord. She didn't even truly understand who she had been ogling at! She almost ranked as high as the Malfoys on his list of annoying people.

/\\\\\\\

Cygnus loved his Lord. Since he loved his Lord and his Lord hated muggles and despised mudbloods, he hated muggles and despised mudbloods. It was all so simple.

Cygnus scratched it head. So why had his Lord brought the mudblood auror along? He scoffed. Only Dumbledore would use mudbloods to fight. They had nobody else.

Cygnus returned to the question at hand. His Lord loved double meanings and hidden objectives, so maybe…this was a test? To see who would be brave enough to kill the mudblood first? Oh boy, he bet that was it. And Cygnus Le'strange, soon to be right-hand man of his Lord, would show him he could kill mudbloods.

His eyes roved around the mudblood's proximity, sizing up his possible enemies. There were three; two were aurors, and one was a warder. The idiot auror was there, fuming at his choker. Why had his Lord given the auror, a light wizard, a choker? Why was Eimstufid special? Cygnus was pissed. He was going to show that idiot where his rightful place was.

/\\\\\\\

Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Slytherin, clapped his hands and announced that they were to leave at 8:00am tomorrow. They were dismissed.


End file.
